Sorry
by OldRuggedCross
Summary: Lizzie McGuire and David Gordon were a couple, until something hurls between them and breaks them apart. LG. I promise.
1. Clouds

**Author's Note:**

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**My second fiction is based on the Lizzie McGuire show. In case you do not know, my old pen-name is Hilaryduff1fan. I've changed it, like I mentioned in "In Love with an Angel", so don't get confused. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do _not_ own any of the Lizzie McGuire episodes. Just my chapters, and the characters I create along the way. Oh. And definitely not "So Yesterday" by Hilary Duff.**

**There. Enjoy…**

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**Sorry**

Chapter 1

"_Lizzie, wait up!"_

_Lizzie bit her lip and whirled around at the call of her name, still clutching her backpack tightly._

_David Gordon jogged up slowly, a lazy grin breaking out onto his face. He tapped her on her shoulders. "I just wanted to say… thanks. Thanks. For everything." He smiled genuinely._

_Lizzie glared at the non-retreating figure, his hand still clasped onto her shoulders. She literally had to look up. Skywards. Just to glower at David – the boy who shattered her dreams._

"_Whatever," Lizzie managed weakly. "Just… Just leave me _alone_." She shrugged away his warm grasp and strode up the bus._

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In the bright atmosphere of the crowded bus, packed with high-schoolers, I brushed away a tear as I hung on tightly to the strap above me.

"How could he still make fun of me?" I thought angrily, scuffing my worn-out tennis shoes on the rough surface. "The guy is popular. The guy is cute. The guy is rich. So what? He's King of the World? Maybe not of mine; definitely not mi-"

The bus halted sharply, signaling the next stop had arrived.

I grabbed her soaring pile of books from falling, before squeezing through the throng of people, unwilling to make space.

"Sheesh. Almost missed my stop, thinking about _him_. Hmmph." I complained crossly, falling into step with my best friend Miranda.

"Hey Lizzie," Miranda replied. "Late bus there, hmm?"

Miranda was lucky. She has _rich_ parents. She's Mexican. She's beautiful. She does not need to take the bus. She does not need to worry when her next meal is coming from. She does not –

Okay. I need to stop. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"So," Miranda's voice jolts me out of my thoughts. "What was with you and David there today, girl?" She glanced at me, concerned. "Did he try anything on you?" her voice hardens, and her tone sharpens.

She knows. She knows my past. With David, I guess.

Once, we were a couple. But that was a long time ago.

Oh. Crap.

Mom said not to think about this. If not, my… problem might act up again.

But I still need to answer Miranda…

"Nope. He didn't." I sighed heavily. "He just said... thanks. No biggie."

Miranda's eyes widened. She hurried me across the road where a van almost swept me off my feet - literally.

"Thanks? Or thanks _thanks_?" She looks into my eyes with her green ones, bubbling with excitement.

"Miranda," I sigh again. "It's over. It's over between us. O-V-E-R. Don't make it sound so… messed up."

"Look, whatever you did in fourth period English, was big enough that he would even _make an effort_ to thank you, in face."

I have to give it to her. She gets _everything_ right.

"I mean, you two are practically _destined_ with each other. Why did you break up?"

Maybe except this one.

I groan, exhausted. "Do I have to actually tell you this _again_?"

Miranda throws back her hair impatiently, looking at her watch anxiously. "I've to go soon. Mom has this stupid charity lunch thing, and all the _ladies_ of Hillridge are coming." She rolls her eyes.

"Oh come on! They're not _that_ bad…" I somehow grin sheepishly. "Especially Mrs. Forster." I add, for good measure.

I love talking to Miranda. She always clears the clouds above me, come what may.

"Oh please. Remember the bike incident?"

I put on an astonished look, my mouth forming a big 'O'. "How could I _forget_ the bicycle incident?"

Miranda huffs edgily, and glances at her watch in full view of me, a second time.

"Fine!" I relent. "I have told you time and time _again_, that David has maligned me, straight after our first date."

Miranda smirks at the part she knows coming. "And…? How did he do it?"

"He told the school that I kissed like dissecting a frog," I whisper through gritted teeth.

Miranda burst out laughing. "I've told you, time and time _again_, that that's a great thing! Nobody in school can kiss like dissecting a frog, let me tell you."

Somehow she manages a straight face while saying that.

I glared at her, annoyed. "Does this always have to _end_ like that?" I whine irritably.

"All the time," she laughs as she walks up her patio and unlocks the door. "Not even Nancy Drew."

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**Phew! 804 words. Pretty lengthy, for me…**

**Did you enjoy it?**

**Please R&R. I need every comment I can get.**

** p 3 OldRuggedCross-**

**Alias**

**Hilaryduff1fan.**

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	2. He Gotta Do It Sometime

**Author's Note:**

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**Once again, hello. **

**You do know that I'd really love those reviews of yours. So scroll down and press the little purple button! See? Simple!**

**Oh man. Do I really have to do this?**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own Lizzie McGuire. I own every fictional character and plot I am creating; including Rachel. Hmm… and the lasagna and InstaMeal! ;)**

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**Sorry.**

Chapter 2

"Hey Mom, hey Dad," I called out wearily, tossing my keys on the counter and making my way to the living room. The day's events were still battling inside my head, and I really felt some fairy would bring me some cookies and milk, and a good chick flick.

"Mmm…" my dad's voice came from the kitchen. "Lasagna and salad." He sounded hassled, even with his euphoria of 'creating' the lasagna. (This is always from "InstaMeal".)

I felt obliged to get up and help him around, _in case_.

"Hey Dad," I stepped into the kitchen. I swallowed a giggle at the sight of him wearing a flowery apron, bearing two oven gloves sizzled black from the oven.

The flat pan of unbaked lasagna and the big bowl of garden salad (also from InstaMeal) were being balanced clumsily on his two open palms.

I burst out laughing when he started juggling the two kitchenware. He looked at me, annoyed.

"Well, aren't you going to help?" Dad huffed angrily; his ego was hurt. Big-time.

I took the lasagna from him and popped it into the oven.

He slipped off his gloves and examines his singed fingers. "Wow, how did you do that?"

I smirk at him; he does not need to know _everything_. "Secret." I breathe mysteriously.

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As I step up the stairs, I can feel the weight of my disappointment and impatience wearing off to the warmth I always feel when I'm away from school.

I knocked on the door twice, to the room I share with my 7 year old sister – Rachel.

"Come in!" chirped Rachel's voice from inside.

She was already in clean clothes and at her desk doing homework when I entered the room.

I smiled. I stuck my hands over her eyes and whispered, "Hey Rachel."

Rachel grinned and gently removed the barrier. "Hey Liz."

"So… how are the fractions coming along?" I ask as I place my backpack on the floor and walk over to my futon.

"Ooh, not so well," Rachel sighs in frustration as she chews on her pencil. "What's ½ minus 1/8?"

I laugh and walk over to her. I take the pencil from her hand. "See, make the denominator the same first, befor –"

"ARGH!"

"What was that?" Rachel abandoned her work and burst out of the room. Meeting Matthew in the corridor, she raised her eyebrows.

"Rachel! I was _teaching_ you!" I frown, irritated as I charge down the stairs with Matthew and Rachel.

Matthew got down there first.

"Oh my freak!" Matt exclaimed.

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Mom rushed down from the loo. "Matt, you do know that swearing is not allowed in he-"

We all stood gaping at the scorched figure in front of us. He was filmed in a layer of black soot and was holding the pan of lasagna, now it was singed.

Dad looked completely shell-shocked; his mouth forming a perfect 'O' shape. His hair contained many soot particles and his clothes and exposed skin were blackened.

"I'll take that away, if I were you, Mom," observed Rachel.

Mom pried the lasagna pan from his grasp and tutted disapprovingly, looking around the dirty kitchen. "Lizzie, Matt, scrub the walls. Rachel, brush the floor," she rationed. "And I," she paused, looking around, as if daring anyone to disagree. "Will bring your dad up to have a bath. And cook dinner."

Mom led him off. We glanced at each other, gleeful.

"Yes! No more lasagna!" Matt cheered as he grabbed handfuls of kitchen towel.

"No more InstaMeal, more like." I responded sardonically.

Matt and Rachel discarded their tasks and danced around in a circle.

I glowered at them. "Oh, that's really mature, a 14 year old dancing around in circles."

Matt stopped at once. Rachel followed in suit.

"Oh come on, you lot. Let's get this kitchen back to normal. Mom needs to _cook_."

Matt and Rachel grinned, before grabbing their tools and setting to work, without complaining.

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"Wow," Mom breathed as she strode into the gleaming kitchen. "This is fantastic." She added on a mutter, "Man, I gotta tell your dad to do this again sometime…"

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**LOL! How was that?**

**I thought it would be cute if I tried to make Mr. McGuire cook. :)**

**Well, you all know the famous two words (and a symbol)…**

**R&R**

** p 3 OldRuggedCross-**

**Alias**

**Hilaryduff1fan.**

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	3. Take That, Lipo!

**Author's Note**

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**Hey.**

**Okay, this is really depressing. I've only gotten two reviews so far, and they're both negative reviews.**

**Man.**

**Anyway, I'll try to answer to their feedback and write slightly longer chapters.**

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Chapter 3

"Ahh…" Rachel sighed with lazy delight, pulling up her socks as she got ready for bed.

"I know, since when did we get such a meal?" I patted my stomach and leaned back in my chair.

She plumped up her pillow and lay on her hands, looking at our whitewashed walls.

"G'night," she mumbled from under her duvet.

"Good night."

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"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" Mom's piercing chirp exploded into the room.

I glanced at the lit up clock: 6.28. Did we _have_ to get up this early?

With a pang, I suddenly realized I had slept on my glasses, out of tiredness and relief of completing the Geography project no one usually bothers about doing.

I picked it up and surveyed it through the blur in my eyes. To my dismay, it had snapped into two unequal pieces.

I grunted in annoyance as I reached for the light switch. Rachel woke up with a jolt as a flick of light lit up the room.

"Wha…" Rachel looked up sleepily, hair tousled. She squinted against the light at me, and remarked thoughtfully, "You look much better without those dorky glasses." She added hastily, "No offence, no offence!"

"Hmmph," I mumbled, groping for my hairbrush. "Well, I don't dress up for _anyone_."

"You should use your contacts," Rachel continued without a pause. "Where did you put them?"

"You sure are cheerful at this hour, huh?" I retorted.

Rachel smiled, easing my hairbrush out of my tangled hair. "Let me do it."

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Half an hour later I walked out of the door, enjoying the feeling of crisp, bright images without my glasses.

"Lizzie, what did you _do_ to your hair?" Miranda inspected me in surprise, the moment I arrived at her patio.

"Why? Does it look terrible?" I touch my hair self-consciously, trying to smooth down the bouncy waves Rachel had introduced into my monotonously straight hair.

Miranda smirked. "Why the need to dress up, Liz? Anyone you wanted to impress?"

I huff edgily, straightening my new bright yellow blouse that I hardly wore. "Rachel made me wear them."

"Rachel?" Miranda looks genuinely shell shocked. "How _c_ute!"

"Whatever," I cannot stop myself from grinning in satisfaction, as we haul ourselves up onto the bus.

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People stared at me in surprise as Miranda and I walked down the hall.

"Nice change, McGuire," sneered Kate Sanders' voice from her spot near the water fountain. "Pity you couldn't get a free lipo too!"

"Ignore her," Miranda muttered furiously. "Ooh look, David is coming!"

She was right.

He didn't walk; he loped casually, till we were face to face. He was wearing a gorgeous Polo shirt and black slacks.

David's eyes crinkled with a smile. "You look… different," he remarked. "You look pretty." He added in a little above a whisper.

I shrugged and lowered my gaze to the floor. "Whatever."

He adjusted his books awkwardly, eyes darting around. "Well, uh, I gotta go. See you around."

With that, he jogged off towards Kate, who was unseeingly shooting daggers at us.

They carried out a whispered argument:

"What's up with you and McGuire?" Kate remarked casually.

"…Nothing," David muttered uncomfortably.

Kate rolled her eyes and tossed her hair. "Whatever, as if I care about Loozie McGuire."

She stalked down the hall, David scuttling behind her.

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Lunch was definitely more… animated today. Wolf whistles beckoned me as strangers walked up and complimented me.

It was almost as if… I was being accepted.

I plunked down my tray of meatloaf and wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"Aww… the meatloaf looks wrong…" Miranda sympathized, digging into her home-packed mushroom lasagna.

"Not the meatloaf, the way everybody is treating me!" I complained.

Secretly, I enjoyed all the attention people were paying to me. It felt like a sort of 'refund', when I was dating David and drawn into the popularity circle.

I grabbed my fork and plunged it into the meatloaf. It deflated like a pathetic balloon. I pushed the plate away and turned to my juice box.

"Well, now's probably the only time you'll get it," Miranda advised. "Savour it, wallow in it."

I stabbed at the flat meal on the table. After making multiple holes in it, I turned to Miranda, a satisfied smile playing at my lips.

"That's Kate," I announced triumphantly. "Ha! Take _that_, liposuction." I gleefully continued my mutilation.

"Kate alert," Miranda muttered icily. "With _David_, no less."

I looked up; my heart pulsating so hard that I thought it could bounce out.

David had an apologetic look on his face, and constantly avoided my gaze.

Kate, on the other hand, had a sickening load of pride shining in her blue eyes. She stared hard at me, while _I_ avoided her gaze feebly.

"So… McGuire," Kate scoffed. "Looks like you haven't heeded my advice."

"_S_anders," I greeted coldly, playing for time as I searched for a witty retort.

She smiled fakely, blinding me with her polished teeth. "David here, has something to tell you, don't you, David?" she gritted her teeth, a Cheshire cat grin narrowing on her lips.

"Well, uh…" he coughed, and forced himself to look up into my eyes. His grin widened as if he thought of another way out of the mess he created. "What I wanted to say was that you look _great_ in that skirt!"

Kate looked as if someone had slapped her in the face. "What?" she shrieked.

"I said, you look amazing in that skirt," David said it more to her, than to me, beaming all the way.

I felt an inward blush rising and my old feelings for him bubbling up.

"You loser!" Kate screeched, bringing a hand right across his face.

David reeled from the stinging pain and backed away as Kate, insufferable Kate, stalked off.

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We watched silently as David picked himself up from the ground.

"A little help here?" he grumbled.

Miranda and I scurried forward, lifting up air instead of flesh.

"Never mind," David grunted and lifted his head to whatever dignity he had left. He assumed his casual lope off, his books flapping dog-eared as he walked.

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**Okay. How was that? 1050 words. This has GOT to be the longest chapter I've written. (:**

**C3 OldRuggedCross-**

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	4. Yes I Do Like him

**Author's Note**

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**OMG.**

**Thank you SO much for reviewing! I'm so relieved that at least some people like my story.**

**To thank you, I am posting this chapter; I hope it will be as long as the previous one!**

**THANKS.**

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Chapter 4

By the end of the day, my ego was boosted and I swore to wearing contact lenses and bright, perky clothes.

I bounced out of History class – the last class of the day fifteen minutes after the bell rang. Normally, I would have grumbled about staying so late, and trudged back home. I was even _humming_ on the way out.

"Hey Lizzie," Miranda greeted suspiciously. "What's up with you?"

"Oh, Mr. Whitford held us back for fifteen minutes, that's all," I chirped.

Miranda's frown of disbelief broadened as she flopped her sandals on the pavement. She held up her hands helplessly, and let it fall.

"…Lizzie!" a voice rang out behind me. "Lizzie! Wait up!"

I froze while Miranda turned her head casually, spying David running up the sidewalk.

"_It's David,_" she muttered from the corner of her mouth, shocked.

My mind was whirling. I felt someone tap me on the shoulder gently.

"Err, Lizzie?" David's breath was almost on my neck.

I turned slowly, willing myself to act normal.

"Lizzie?" David said, waiting patiently for me to look up.

I reluctantly dragged my gaze up into his gorgeous blue eyes. He smiled gently, placing a hand on my shoulder.

He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to tell you, that, what I said during lunch-"

Miranda interrupted, "What? You didn't mean it?" she muttered an afterthought, "What a jerk."

He furrowed his eyebrows and continued, "What I said during lunch, I truly mean it." He paused, seeing my confused expression. "I'm sorry."

I glanced up in time to see him turning his back, slouched from disappointment. "Wait!" I blurted.

_CRAP. WHY DID I JUST DO THAT?_

He whirled around, startled. "Yeah?" He stuck his hand through his hair.

I jogged towards him, nudging Miranda to keep a distance.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Just to tell you, I really meant what I said," David exclaimed shyly.

Suddenly, in front of me, the real David Gordon – Gordo materialized; the Gordo I had known since we were in diapers, the Gordo I thought had disappeared after entering college…

"Gordo!" I flung my arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

I felt him stiffen slightly, and immediately regretted doing that. After all, he did not confirm that he had ended his 'relationship' with Kate yet.

I pulled away awkwardly and patted his back.

"Well, uh, I'd better get going."

"Oh, sure!" I hastily recoiled my hand and folded them, ensuring I would not do anything I would further regret. "Sorry."

"Later."

A tiny smile tugged at his face as he turned and walked away.

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"What was _that_?" Miranda shrieked excitedly, as I returned with a sheepish expression on my face.

"C'mon," I said firmly, resuming my smooth, hair-bouncing walk. I dragged the indignant Miranda and smiled testily.

She stayed, rooted to the spot, arms crossed. "I'm not moving anywhere till you tell me what you were thinking."

I shut all signs of emotions from my face and mirrored her, folding my arms. "Fine, then _I'll_ go." I strutted off, aware that Miranda would soften.

"Alright! You got me!" she shouted exasperatedly.

I paused for her to catch up, and continued briskly. "I have to hurry; Mom's waiting."

She wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to speak.

I looked at her, and she immediately shut her mouth and bent down to retie her already immaculate laces. "Good choice, Miranda." I smirked. "I don't need to know what you want to say."

She pouted and mumbled something under her breath. She straightened up and looked in my eye. "You still like David, don't you!"

I snorted unconvincingly and gave a throaty laugh that was obvious it was forced. "No… of course not…" I avoided her gaze feebly and coughed quietly. Her stare zoned into me like gamma rays.

"You still like _Gordo_, don't you?" she half-asked, half-accused. She folded her arms again and sighed gently.

I looked up into her sharply molded features that looked almost like it was carved into her beautiful Mexican face. "Well…" I felt the heat rising and the giveaway blush that glowed on my cheeks, scarlet against my pale white face. I took a deep breath. "Yes. I do like him."

It was then when I said those words did I really mean them.


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